Last night I had my first experience with a 4th grade science fair. Were these kids really 4th graders? You have got to be kidding me!
Sometime in December, Riley came home with a handout from school. “Elephants never forget and neither do 4th graders. Remember the science fair. January 30, 2008.” I remember thinking, “This should be fun. Riley loves science projects.” I told him to go get his book of science projects and pick one that he would like to do. As he thumbed through the pages, he found it; growing crystals, every little boys dream, right?
We spent the next month “thinking” about it, and the week before it was due we started. I had Chet stop at the grocery store and pick up the all important, very technical, secret ingredient… laundry booster. It would take a couple of days for the crystals to grow so we grabbed our glass jar, added the ingredients and set it aside for time to work its magic. Within hours, it started to work. “This was going to be so cool.”
Then it came time for the ever important “display piece”. I grabbed a piece of neon orange poster board we had in our closet for just such an occasion and put it down in front of Riley. I had images in my head of fancy fonts and fun borders. Just as I started to discuss our game plan, he looked at me and said, “Can I do it?” I was a little surprised by his question, nevertheless, “Sure,” I said, “what do you need?” He said, “I need a sharpie.” I waited for something more and nothing more came. I then replied, “I could go get you some white paper to use so it will show up better or something.” He said, “No, just a sharpie.” I thought, ok, it IS his project and so sharpie it is. He proceeded to write out his whole project; hypothesis, procedure, results, conclusion, all out on this plain orange poster board. And when it was finished I looked at it and thought, “Good job, Riley.”
As we pulled into the school parking lot on January 30th at 6:25—exactly 25 minutes late, Riley complained—it was packed. We walked into the school gymnasium/lunch room, and I’m not positive, but I think my mouth dropped open just a bit in unbelief. “Was I in the right place? Is this the 6th grade science fair or maybe even the high school science fair?”
I entered the room filled with rows and rows of projects. Astonished I thought to myself, “What was this, display board? They make such a thing?” “And the fonts look at the fonts, the borders and the charts and the graphs. These guys meant business.” As I looked over at Riley I didn’t expect to see the big smile that was on his face. “Mine is over here, Mom,” he said. And as he led me down a colorful row I looked toward the end, and there, towered like a three story building in downtown New York City, was Riley’s neon orange poster board flashing like a neon sign. At that moment an immense feeling of embarrassment washed over my body.
As the fair continued on and I figured I had spent ample time there, I tracked Riley down and said “It’s time to go.” Instantly he got this look of disappointment and said to me “But mom, we have to stay. They are going to announce the winners and I might get an award.” I thought, “An award?” Careful not to dash his hopes, I moped off and sat on the stage and laid low for the awards to be presented. As I waited, a thought went through my mind. “Was he really so unaware?”
And then it hit me. My son had done the whole thing by himself and he was proud of it; it was written all over his face. I watched as he waited with anticipation as they called out the winners.
Sometime in December, Riley came home with a handout from school. “Elephants never forget and neither do 4th graders. Remember the science fair. January 30, 2008.” I remember thinking, “This should be fun. Riley loves science projects.” I told him to go get his book of science projects and pick one that he would like to do. As he thumbed through the pages, he found it; growing crystals, every little boys dream, right?
We spent the next month “thinking” about it, and the week before it was due we started. I had Chet stop at the grocery store and pick up the all important, very technical, secret ingredient… laundry booster. It would take a couple of days for the crystals to grow so we grabbed our glass jar, added the ingredients and set it aside for time to work its magic. Within hours, it started to work. “This was going to be so cool.”
Then it came time for the ever important “display piece”. I grabbed a piece of neon orange poster board we had in our closet for just such an occasion and put it down in front of Riley. I had images in my head of fancy fonts and fun borders. Just as I started to discuss our game plan, he looked at me and said, “Can I do it?” I was a little surprised by his question, nevertheless, “Sure,” I said, “what do you need?” He said, “I need a sharpie.” I waited for something more and nothing more came. I then replied, “I could go get you some white paper to use so it will show up better or something.” He said, “No, just a sharpie.” I thought, ok, it IS his project and so sharpie it is. He proceeded to write out his whole project; hypothesis, procedure, results, conclusion, all out on this plain orange poster board. And when it was finished I looked at it and thought, “Good job, Riley.”
As we pulled into the school parking lot on January 30th at 6:25—exactly 25 minutes late, Riley complained—it was packed. We walked into the school gymnasium/lunch room, and I’m not positive, but I think my mouth dropped open just a bit in unbelief. “Was I in the right place? Is this the 6th grade science fair or maybe even the high school science fair?”
I entered the room filled with rows and rows of projects. Astonished I thought to myself, “What was this, display board? They make such a thing?” “And the fonts look at the fonts, the borders and the charts and the graphs. These guys meant business.” As I looked over at Riley I didn’t expect to see the big smile that was on his face. “Mine is over here, Mom,” he said. And as he led me down a colorful row I looked toward the end, and there, towered like a three story building in downtown New York City, was Riley’s neon orange poster board flashing like a neon sign. At that moment an immense feeling of embarrassment washed over my body.
As the fair continued on and I figured I had spent ample time there, I tracked Riley down and said “It’s time to go.” Instantly he got this look of disappointment and said to me “But mom, we have to stay. They are going to announce the winners and I might get an award.” I thought, “An award?” Careful not to dash his hopes, I moped off and sat on the stage and laid low for the awards to be presented. As I waited, a thought went through my mind. “Was he really so unaware?”
And then it hit me. My son had done the whole thing by himself and he was proud of it; it was written all over his face. I watched as he waited with anticipation as they called out the winners.
What a profound lesson he taught me in that moment. It shouldn’t matter what our appearance is in life, what we drive or what we wear. What should really matter is the hard work and effort we put into it. And at the end of the day, even if we are surrounded by people with so much on display, if we have done our best and worked hard, we should be proud!
1 comment:
Tell Riles way to go! He did a great job!
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